Red Balloons
by Peccati
Summary: She saw them once a year, releasing 100 red balloons into New York's skyline in front of the Empire State Building. And some how, she knew them.


She'd worked in the little diner across from the Empire State Building for two years when she first saw him. It was on the day of this second year anniversary that a bright shock of red made her glance out the windows. The shadow of the color reflecting on the tiles beneath her feet caused her face to scrunch in confusion and lift her head to see a rather strange sight. A young teenager, around eighteen it seemed was passing outside the diner's windows, which wouldn't have been a big deal at all if not for the huge number of red balloons he carried in either hand. His face was set in a grim line and beside him was a slightly shorter girl who also clutched at least two or three dozen strings each attached to a blazing red balloon.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw many customers look from their breakfasts to gaze at the spectacle. The same was happening on the street as they walked confidently down the sidewalk before disappearing past the diner. Our waitress merely blew out of her mouth, shook her head, and continued attending to the customers.

That is, until the same contrast in color appeared across the road before the Empire State Building. Once again, she paused, along with a couple tables by the window, and watched the strange couple as they stood in front of the skyscraper. The boy seemed to move the balloons from his right hand to his left as the girl did the opposite. Finally, together, holding hands, they released the balloons into the air and stood for at least five minutes simply watching them disappear into the clouds.

It was the second year in a row they appeared and she vaguely remembered seeing something like this the year before. A couple walked swiftly past the diner window with handfuls of bright red balloons. They would disappear out of sight to cross the roads before appearing before the doors of the skyscraper across the way. Together they released the balloons and once again stood to watch their disappearance, the girl's head resting against the taller boy's shoulder.

The third year, the waitress estimated them to be around twenty now (the same age as herself) and as they past, she was waiting, watching to see if they would appear once again. This time around she took in their appearance and decided to commit them to memory as so far it seemed this little balloon release was an annual thing. As they walked by, strings and memorable balloons in hand, she studied their grim faces. The boy was a good three or so inches taller and had shaggy dark hair resting just above his eyes, partially obscuring dark eyebrows. His eyes, though she didn't get a good view of them, seemed slightly dull. She could tell their partial sheen was merely a facade, one she knew all too well. They glistened on the edges, making his eyes the color of dark waters above a deep trench. She figured his trench was not one of his own doing and the storm in his eyes was nothing compared to the girl's he shared the weight of 100 red balloons with.

The girl was blonde, hair much lighter than the waitress dark barely-there waves, and hers fell in long soft, loose curls while the observer's was tied to the side of her head in a fraying bun. The girl on the other side of the glass had dark clouds for eyes, either one seemingly ready to send lightning towards whomever she wanted. However, the waitress felt as though the lightning would come in words as the girl held herself with the quiet dignity of an intelligible person, one who knows what she wants, how to get it, and how to make people see her point of view. Both had small blemishes on their faces and a few on their arms. The boy had a long cut on his right arm, from elbow to wrist, while the girl walked with a barely-there limp, one that had long since been overcome.

One thing had changed this year, however. The couple sported matching bands on their left ring fingers. The waitress hummed slightly in contemplation and they passed out of sight. She knew it would take at least five minutes to arrive in front of the Empire State Building the way they headed, so she resumed her work and glanced up just in time to see an older teenager, most likely around eighteen with short black hair and tanned skin, walk up to them hand in hand with a caramel haired girl that seemed to be just a bit shorter than him, though they were both shorter than the blonde girl that normally accompanied the tallest of them all. The two 'Originals', as the waitress unconsciously deemed them, handed one fist of balloons to either person and together they released the many strings and all stood beside the other watching them float away.

The fourth year of their event and fifth year she was employed, along with the two Originals and the two from the year before came five more people. One was another blonde boy who looked a year younger than the black haired Original, though was barely taller. He had bright blue eyes that shined more than the two leaders of the group, the Originals, and held onto a significantly shorter Native American looking girl with choppy brown hair and kaleidoscope eyes, much more unique than the on-looker's colorless, black eyes. Behind that pair was an interesting trio. A thin mocha-skinned girl smiled slightly, closing golden eyes and tugging at golden hair, beside a masculine Chinese man with close-cropped black hair and kind, dark eyes. On the other side of the boy was a regal-looking woman with a long brunette braid down her back. She offered a gentle smile back and looked upon their red balloon procession with dark, coffee-bean-colored eyes. All nine of them did as the Originals did for the past four years and watched somberly together as the balloons lifted into the atmosphere.

The fifth year came around and another pair had joined their small parade. He seemed oddly familiar with long shadows for hair and the night sky for eyes. Beside him was yet another blonde whose eyes were a soft sky blue and was a couple inches taller than the boy whose dark hair was tied at the crown of his head in a small bun. She looked between them and saw their hands intertwined. They seemed to be speaking quietly to each other behind all the others. The eleven man parade made its way to the doors of the Empire State Building, though now the 100 red balloons were split between the number. Once again they all stood before the shining skyscraper to watch the red disappear into the sky.

The sixth year, she was twenty-three and simply couldn't stand it anymore. She'd spent six years of her employment here wondering about this odd procession and suddenly she was bursting through the doors of the diner, the manager watching as she raced out to intercept this group that seemed so familiar the more she thought over them. Her knee-length white dress and pink apron weighed around her body as she raced to catch them before they crossed to the Empire State Building.

"Hey! Wait up! Balloon parade! Wait up!"

Gods, she must look ridiculous. Then, she realized she was chasing after a bunch of people who made an annual event of releasing red balloons into the sky, so she couldn't look completely weird to them. As if planned, all eleven turned and she immediately noticed them tense, though she didn't know how she could notice such a small thing, but she felt as though she knew them well enough to know what they were feeling, especially the pale boy in the back.

Speaking of said boy, when she looked into his eyes it seemed as though they mirrored her own and she knew the boy felt the same because she saw the breath catch in his throat.

The second tallest man with the ocean for eyes audibly choked and whispered in a slightly rasping baritone, "Oh my gods."

Both he and her male counterpart simply stood there while everyone else simply stared in confusion. The waitress' own thoughts were consumed with a brain-pounding case of deja-vu and she was nearly in tears with pain.

Through watery eyes she peered at the congregation before her and pleaded, "Why does it hurt to see you?"

It's the seventh year now and there are twelve people walking with fists full of red balloons. They walk in pairs, the first still consisting of the Originals or Percy and Annabeth (everyone laughed at her rather arbitrary name for them), the second Leo and Calypso, the third Jason and Piper, the fourth Frank and Hazel, the fifth Nico and Will, and the last Reyna and herself. It had taken a while, but she had finally accepted who she used to be and learned all about her past.

After that day, she could see.

She could see the mythological world, as if by some blessing of knowledge (it was actually Lady Artemis who granted her this having decided she was a bit too old to rejoin the Hunt). Now she was a clear-sighted mortal and had accepted her past and for once was excited for a not-as-bleak-looking future. Along with the "blessing of knowledge", she was granted access to Camp Half-Blood which caused her to ditch her dark, disturbing, and disgusting apartment for another one, sans the disturbing and disgusting (in her opinion).

According to Nico, it wasn't unlikely to be reborn with similar if not identical traits as previous lives. So she had the same shadows for hair and night sky in her eyes, though she felt it was only in this life that she felt as she did for Reyna. One night, in the past year of relearning who she used to be, Reyna had admitted to her that she was to be 'saved' by one who wasn't a demigod. From then on, she had done her best to be the not-demigod meant for Reyna.

Now, she passed her old workplace with the people she had stared after, wondered about, and wished to know. She crossed the street as a part of the red balloon parade. She released the strings from her fists alongside these people she used to know.

They had asked her how she was as old as she was and it took her many months to realize the answer. In fact, she wasn't all that surprised to figure it out. She had had memories of things she didn't recall doing and people she didn't remember meeting. After much thinking and consulting with Annabeth, they had figured it out and explained it to everyone over coffee that winter.

"You see, I don't recall much of my childhood. In fact, I barely remember any of it before I turned sixteen. I'd gotten into a car accident and was nearly dead. I do remember waking up with a blanket over my head and shocked paramedics surrounding me. I had died and apparently my reborn soul took the place of the deceased one. Why? Annabeth and I couldn't figure that out, but we figure Lord Hades had something to do with that."

Everyone had accepted it and moved on because who really wanted to dwell upon a past such as that? She was here now and they met so that was that in the eyes of the demigods, titan, and her mortal self.

Either way, she stood beside them as they released 99 red balloons into the air, one less than the past years. Nico and Percy explained the reduction when they were buying them.

"Well you're back now, so we don't need to...mourn for you," Nico had replied, secret happiness shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, this was kind of our own way of publicly remembering the demigods lost in the Battle of Manhattan. It's like releasing their souls to the winds, almost relinquishing their death and accepting it in what we like to think as a rather poetic manner." Percy's voice softly followed, his deep rasp differing from Nico's tad higher and smoother voice. She had offered a gentle smile, close to the one she saw her now-girlfriend give Hazel those couple years ago.

Nico chuckled gently, "Gods, Perce. Stop sounding smart!"

Percy had sputtered indignantly, and they continued to tease each other until Will had broken in claiming his boyfriend's hand and joking in his soothing voice, "Now, now ladies. You're both pretty."

This had caused the cousins to turn against the son of Apollo and she had thought it one of the happiest days of her life.

Back in front of the Empire State Building's shining entrance, she was called back from her reverie to see the small dots of red were fading further and further until every once in a while she could only catch the reflection of one. She looked to her right and saw the loving face of Reyna, smiling knowingly at her fascination with the freedom of purposefully releasing something as distinct as a blazing red balloon into the soft blue sky. To her left was the rest of where she belonged.

As they walked away, Bianca glanced back and decided that, with the red balloons, her old life of struggle and hopelessness would end and her older life surrounded by those she loved would begin again.


End file.
